


Strange Customs

by AltFire



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Amulet of Mara, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-07 10:43:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8797720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AltFire/pseuds/AltFire
Summary: Thadan Oakwind is many things - a skilled archer, a good friend, and the Dragonborn among them. What he isn't is anything but completely inept at all things romance. In short: the Amulet of Mara is a ridiculous and confusing concept, and Thadan's almost one hundred percent sure he's doing this wrong. Good thing Lydia's there to help.
--
An old idea for the supposed Thadan/Ghorbash thing that has since been thrown out. It was more a fun way to write and explore these characters without having to adhere to the playthrough's current events. Cut from "Thadan Oakwind's Journal" when I discovered that I would be able to continue the playthrough, and wished to remove this entirely as it's not canon and might be confusing.
It's also unfinished and cuts off at the end. I lost interest, but I'd rather have it up somewhere than rotting in my google drive.





	

I’m anxious, taking the steps down to the ground floor from my bedroom. I’ve dressed - my armor secure over clean underclothes, the subtle hum of their enchantments vitalizing me, my similarly enhanced ring secure on my right hand. The balance of it all is different, however - I’ve donned a different amulet. Ghorbash is finishing up his breakfast at the table behind me, and Lydia sat in front of the fire with her mace, watching the Dwarven metal reflect the light and shimmer with magic. When she hears my footfalls she turns to greet me.

“Good morning, my tha-” And then she cuts short. Her helmet is on the side table, and without it I can see her eyes go wide for a moment. “Talos,” she whispers, and my anxiety only gets worse. I hadn’t realized the thing would be so recognizable, though she  _ is  _ a Nord. These are  _ her  _ customs.

“Ah- good morning, Lydia,” I say, faux-casually, as if I didn’t have an Amulet of Mara about my neck, a symbol of my willingness to court and wed. I suppose that is how it is  _ typically  _ worn - casually, that is. It probably seems a bigger deal in my mind than it really is. “I trust you slept well?”

“Where did you get that?” she hisses, ignoring my question and staring pointedly at the amulet.

“Riften,” I confess. “Temple of Mara.”

“So you know-”

“-exactly what I’m doing, yes,” I say and she stares me in the eye for a long time, then bites her lip.

“Are we heading out?” she asks loudly, setting her mace across her knees and donning her helmet to hide her face.

“Yes,” I say, and Ghorbash perks up at my voice, as if he hadn’t heard me before. I offer him a tight smile when our eyes meet. “We’re walking, so it’s best if we get started early.”

“I’m ready when you are,” Ghorbash says. His eyes flick down to my chest. “New necklace?”

“It’s meant to help with restoration magic,” I say. “Healing spells, and the like.”

“Smart,” Ghorbash says, coming close to take the pendant between his thick thumb and forefinger, turning it around so the bronze and the little blue stone caught the light. “Looted it somewhere?”

“Yeah,” I lie, eager to change the subject once I realize he  _ doesn’t  _ know what it is. Damned pointless thing. The Amulet of Kynareth was doing me much more good - I never heal anything enough to need the boost this thing gives, be it Meeko or Nilana or, well, Ghorbash himself. I prefer to use potions for my own healing anyway - don’t have to deal with that draining feeling I get from overexerting my limited magical power. “Let’s, ah. Get out of here.”

I turn back toward the door and Lydia is staring at me - or, I assume she is, the winged face of her helmet trained on my face. I steadfastly ignore her, pulling my hair back with a strip of leather and pulling my helmet on over top of it, careful with the tips of my ears, as I open the door of Breezehome.

Within days, I absolutely regret putting the damn thing on.

I left my Amulet of Kynareth in Breezehome when we left, and we haven't returned, spending time in Solitude trying to earn the coin to buy the manor there. And- and I’m annoyed, because I’m rather well-known and recognizable here, as Dragonborn and Legionnaire and Bosmer, and as I drag Lydia and Ghorbash all over the city I - and they - hear whispers of gossip.

“Did you see? He's-”

“-can't believe it! Do you think-”

“-kind of Bosmer would even-”

“-so handsome! Maybe there’s-”

“-right. Wish me luck.”

It’s outside the general store when I am first approached.

“Excuse me, Legate Oakwind!” a pretty, feminine voice says from behind me and I freeze, something inside me going tight with discomfort. 

I turn and recognize Lisette, the Breton bard from the Winking Skeever. She smiles and approaches me, looking more nervous than I’ve ever seen her. She can hardly meet my eye.

“Hello, Lisette,” I say, for lack of anything else to say. My mind is to busy praying fervently that she isn’t about to ask what I think she is.

“Oh! You know my name!” she exclaims, surprised. I don't tell her that I could probably name every employed bard in Skyrim by now. She clears her throat. “I’m glad I don't have to- well. That would be weird.”

“Get on with it,” Ghorbash says, something like a tease in his voice, and Lisette flushes.

“Oh, I- um, I noticed your pendant,” she says, and it takes everything in me to keep from drooping with disappointment. “And- and if you’ll have me-” She looks up at me as if to gauge my reaction, and very nearly droops herself. “I- I mean, we’ve spoken before and I’ve heard tales about your adventures and you always come to make requests when you stay at the Skeever and-” She cuts herself off. “Gods, I’m not usually so nervous. I just- I wish to tell you I’m, you know. Interested.”

I feel vindicated, at least, that she seems as uncomfortable as I am - or, at least, as nervous. “I appreciate the offer,” I say as charmingly as I can muster, and her face droops immediately. I feel terrible. “But I- I’ve, um, already got someone in particular in mind.”

She lights back up a little, something like mischief in her eyes. “And this is your roundabout way of approaching her?” She snickers a little. “Ah,  _ men.  _ Can't say I’m surprised.” Before I can respond she sighs and pats my exposed bicep, shaking her head. “I hope, for your sake, that she notices. You looked like you were scared I’d eat you.” With a bell-like laugh and an almost theatrical twirl, she disappears back into the Skeever.

I can feel Lydia and Ghorbash staring.

“Don't say a gods-damned word,” I say, and one of them snorts. I can't tell which one.

“I can't believe you didn't tell us we came all the damn way out to Solitude for some girl,” Ghorbash says at last, as we’re walking the streets. Every time we pass the Skeever, Lisette is standing outside and begins to giggle. My face is nearly the same color as my hair, I’m sure. “I didn't think you had a romantic bone in your body, Thadan.”

“He hasn't one,” Lydia says. “Not yet, anyway.”

I choke on air and whirl around, but her steel helmet is inscrutable as always, reflecting my scarlet visage back at me. Ghorbash doesn't seem to have heard her, or have taken her meaning. How crude a thing to say!

“Have we seen this special someone today?” Ghorbash asks.

“I told you not to say a word,” I say, turning back around to keep walking. I keep forgetting where the damned blacksmith is, and the meaningless meandering is exhausting - especially without my Amulet of Kynareth. I’m beginning to regret this damned experiment.

“But I’m curious! What kind of woman could capture the attentions of  _ Thadan Oakwind,  _ romantically inept Dragonborn?” Ghorbash laughs at his own joke.

“I’ve seen- um, her,” I say, hoping that acquiescing will quiet his questions. “You likely haven't, er, noticed her.”

I can practically hear Ghorbash's faux-knowing nod. “Ah. Diminutive, then. Or plain. I guess that's why you turned down that gorgeous bard, eh?”

Something in my chest flares with jealous heat. “Sure.”

“Can't handle the competition, I’m sure,” he continues. “Lydia and I draw enough attention off of you as it is. You seem to solely attract the dashing adventurer type.”

“Are you calling me handsome?” Lydia asks.

“Can't deny the facts, Lydia,” Ghorbash says. “It’s probably why Thadan’s got you in that helmet - can't have the men of Skyrim following us into Blackreach if only to catch one glimpse of you.”

“Why don't you wear a mask, then, if you're so handsome as well?” I can tell she’s flustered, and I almost smile.

“It’s not my face that’s the problem,” Ghorbash says, and Lydia snorts. “Most non-Orsimer can't appreciate a good pair of tusks to save their lives. No, you saw his eagerness to get me properly outfitted. He knows that no one looks better than he does in leathers.”

I try to retort, but my mouth is dry. Lydia laughs. “I like your tusks,” I say dumbly, and Ghorbash snickers.

“Of course you do,” he says, like he doesn't believe me. Then he changes the subject. “So, is she an adventurer? Should we expect our party to grow in number?”

“Gods, no,” I say. “You two and Meeko are enough.”

“Plain, boring civilian,” Ghorbash muses. “Either you're lying to me, or you’re attracted to half the women of Skyrim, and not the good half.”

It’s getting dark now, and we've managed to get nothing done due to my somehow-still-miserable knowledge of the city and my companions’ habit of distracting me. We turn into the Skeever for the night, Lisette's beautiful voice greeting us with The Age of Aggression.

I ask the innkeeper for a pair of bedrolls for my companions, but he is only able to produce one.

I bring it back to where Lydia and Ghorbash are waiting at a table. “He only had the one-”

Before I can finish the thought, Lydia snatches the bundle from my arms. “I’ll take it,” she says, and I fix her with a stern look. I don't say anything, however, and leave for our room. I hear her armor clinking as she stands to follow, but not Ghorbash's heavy footfalls.

Once she’s laid out the roll and I’ve dropped off my heavy bag, I get between her and the open door. Ghorbash must have stayed downstairs - I can hear Lisette begin strumming the first few notes to The Dragonborn Comes on her lute, no doubt at his request.

“You know why I’m wearing this damned thing, don't you?” I say, gesturing to the pendant still hanging around my neck.

Lydia hasn't taken off her helmet. “I don't know what you're talking about, my thane.”

I scoff. “Lydia, please. I’m being serious. You know about my-” The words catch in my throat. “About how I care for Ghorbash,” I finish.

“I know you're as hopeless as he is blind, yes,” she says, and I wonder at where all this snark is coming from.

“Why are you doing this?” I gesture to the bedroll.

She shrugs. “I’m getting at you for making me suffer through that nonsense about your mystery dream woman,” she says, and I swear I can hear her smirk. “If you sharing a bed with him makes you feel as uncomfortable as I sharing a bed with you did, sleeping on the floor will have been worth it.”

“Joke's on you - we’ve shared a bed before!” I say.

“And how did that go?”

I flush, remembering the last time - when Ghorbash had had a nightmare and pinned me to the bed, and the subsequent awkward carriage ride. “F-fine.”

She sounds unconvinced. “Exactly what I thought.”

I frown, tugging my helmet off and untying my hair. I run a hand through it as I set my headgear aside. “What- Can I ask you what you think I should do, then? Since you so obviously disapprove of my methods.”

“You have a method?” Lydia laughs, divesting herself of her helmet as well. “I can't act as though I have a particularly vibrant love life, my thane, but I believe that confronting any problem head-on is usually the best way to solve it.”

“You want me to talk to him?”

“And soon, before he gets to that journal of yours. He told me you won't let him read it, and I’m sure I can guess why, by the flush of your cheeks.” Ghorbash really was right - she is beautiful, a fact I seem to have forgotten since I started giving her full-face helmets. I almost wish I could be attracted to her.

“I- Fine,” I say, and I can tell she notices the pointed lack of a denial. “What should I say?”

She pauses to think before beginning. “'Hello, I’m Thadan Oakwind-’” She adopts some bizarre baritone and strange accent, and I snort.

“I don't sound like that,” I say, but she waves me off.

“-and I lied about being attracted to some random woman because, yes, I will literally Shout dragons out of the sky-” I laughed again. “-but I am scared of having a conversation with the object of my affections.’”

I smile, laughter bubbling up in my throat. “I- Is that the  _ exact  _ wording? Could you write that down for me?”

“Absolutely, my thane,” and never before has that title sounded so damned patronizing. She sighs. “By the nine, I hope you do it soon. I’m sick nearly to death of watching you make eyes at him while he's fighting.”

Someone clears their throat behind me, and I freeze. It either says something about how much time we spend together or how much attention I pay to him that I instantly recognize his breathing.

“How long were you there?” I ask, and Lydia's eyes go wide. No doubt she hadn't seen him, too short to see him over my shoulder - she's as startled as I am.

“Your Thadan impression really does need work, Lydia,” Ghorbash says, with no humor in his voice, despite his words. He steps around me into the room, setting his helmet next to Lydia's and mine on a table, and dropping his bag indelicately to the floor. “You two were taking a long time, so I thought I’d check on you. I suppose I shouldn't have.”

“Are you upset with me?” I ask. I still haven't met his eyes, though he has come to stand at Lydia's side to face me, arms crossed.

“Lydia, can I have my turn with him?” he says, and Lydia looks between us before scurrying downstairs. She closes the door behind her.

I finally look at him, and he looks angry - but no more angry than his face makes him look normally, so maybe this is him schooling his face passive.

He sighs. “You've made me feel right foolish, Thadan,” he says, disappointed. I open my mouth as if I've something to say (I haven't) but he continues. “How long have you been keeping this from me? Your- your attraction to me.”

I wonder just how flushed I am - if I'm as scarlet as I feel. “I- Just, er, physically? Since we met.” I recall watching him train back in Dushnikh Yal, admiring the way his muscles shifted and flexed under his skin. “R-romantically? Weeks. I'd have to check my journal for specifics.”

“So that's why you won't let me read the damned thing,” he says. He doesn't look- well,  _ disgusted,  _ which feels like a small victory. “I don't understand why you couldn't just tell me instead of mucking around with whatever that is. The courting necklace. Those damn strange Nord customs.” He gestures vaguely towards my chest, lips pulling into a deliberate frown. “Is this why- oh, this actually explains a lot. Why you were acting strange when we shared this bed, before, why you pay so much attention to me when we fight, why you write down our every gods-damned conversation in that journal.”

“If I've been inappropriate, I apologize,” I say, unsure where this is going. “If- if you wish to leave for Dushnikh Yal, or to go adventuring on your own, you are free to. If you want to stay, I will pay for you to have separate rooms at every Inn we stay at, if-”

“No, Thadan, you misunderstand me,” Ghorbash says, stepping closer. “I wish you had told me sooner! I’ve been wondering for weeks if your attention for me was equal that which you have for Lydia, or if- if the closeness of it reflected the fact that you cared for me much the way that I- that I have come to care for you.” I freeze, and he gets closer, continuing. “I was beginning to think I was- I don't know, seeing something where there was nothing out of hopefulness. That damned amulet of yours didn't help.”

“I'm sorry,” I say, my head spinning. “I didn't know you were, er, attracted to men and I didn't want to lose you just yet by making you uncomfortable.”

“That, and under your charismatic Dragonborn persona, you're as timid as a child,” he jokes. “I'm attracted to strong, beautiful people, regardless of gender. You are unlike anyone I've ever met - truly without compare both on the battlefield and off of it. I would be  _ honored  _ to continue to be your companion, in your adventure and-” His lips twitch and the skin about his cheeks darkens, eyes darting to my mouth, to my chest. “-in life, if you'll have me.”

He really is very close now, enough that he seems to pervade my every sense - scant inches between us, I can see the dark shadow of a beard starting on his cheeks, the pale expanse of his eyes, his dark eyelashes. I can smell his sweat and his leathers, feel the considerable heat of his body. The wolf in me can hear his heart beating fast, awaiting my response anxiously.

“Can I kiss you?” I ask, and for a moment he seems baffled.

“You have to ask?”


End file.
